Shoreline
by justanotherfic
Summary: MULTIPLE CHAPTERS ADDED! He wished he had taken her hand back then and sunk with her away from the island but he hadn't. He wondered bitterly if it was too late now. SPOILERS FOR SEASON THREE. Jate, mentions of Skate. COMPLETE
1. Shoreline

Takes place after they have escaped from captivity. **CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM ALL EPISODES FROM SEASON THREE!**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except for maybe my computer and my mind, still, nowadays, you can't be so sure... The title is from the song Shoreline originally by the Swedish band Broder Daniel. I prefer the version by Anna Ternheim. Lyrics can be found at www letssingit com search for Anna Ternheim.

water welled over his feet with every wash of the waves, and then drew back silently, taking the sand tumbling down with it. The sun burned in his face, but he couldn't be bothered to move to the tree line. What was the point? He drew his hand through his hair; longer now than it had ever been since they crashed, partly due to the fact that he had been at Ben's camp for the past three months. Partly due to the fact that in the long run it didn't matter, and he quite simply couldn't be bothered to do something about it. He rubbed a little at his neck, stiff from sitting in the same position hours on end. The pain didn't bother him; he just merely accepted its presence. Just like he had with so many other things in the last three months. He shifted a little, not much, just pressing his feet a little deeper into the wet sand. He thought of Kate, and accepted that pain to. He smiled inside at the memory of when she explained the concept of sinking to him. He wished that it might have worked. He wished he had taken her hand back then and sunk with her; away from the island; away from the hell that awaited them. But he hadn't, and both of them had been forced to live through it all. He wondered bitterly if it was too late now.

He glanced to his right, instantly spotting several of the other survivors. At one point, he had been grateful that he had survived the plane crash, that he had been given a second chance in life, when there were so many who died. That feeling was long gone. Now, instead, he secretly wished that he had died. Instead of having the responsibility for everyone and everything. Instead of being the only doctor. Instead of being lonely. He was still amazed at their audacity. He had merely been back in the camp for an odd ten hours before the first person showed up in his tent asking for medical advice. Hollow laughter bubbled in his throat at the thought. The woman, he didn't know her name and he didn't care either, had scraped her arm and wanted something to wash it with. He had laughed in her face and pointed her to Sayid's tent instead. A few more had come in the following hours but after receiving pretty much the same treatment they had given up.

Only Rose had tried to really talk to him since, and he had been back for more than three days now. He had seen Kate in the distance several times. He had seen her look at him out of the corner of his eyes, but she had never made any attempt to come near him, or talk to him. He told himself that he didn't care; his insides were already numb, already beyond repair, already dying, so her rejection only brought him a little bit closer to the edge he longed for. He had watched her a lot. Watched her talk with Claire, carefully holding Aaron to her body as if he might break. He had watched her talk to Sayid, bent over his maps, ready for adventure. In the evenings he would see her around the fire, laughing with the others: Hurley, Charlie, Claire and Sun. Sometimes she would help Rose with the laundry, or disappear with Sun to the garden. Most of her time, however, she spent either in the jungle or by Sawyer's empty tent.

He had never meant for it to happen the way it did. He had only ever wanted her to be safe. He had thought that their threats were empty; just a way to get to him. Because they had known how much he cared for her, and she in turn for Sawyer. How was he supposed to know that Pickett held such a grudge? How was he supposed to know what went on out by the cages when he asked her to go? How was he supposed to know that his killing Ben would lead to them killing Sawyer?

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The sun was setting, blood red light spreading across the sky. The wind had picked up a little, but even though he felt cold he could not be bothered to move or leave. An untouched water bottle sat next to him and next to it was an empty coconut shell filled with some cooked boar meat and a variety of fruits, all courtesy of Rose. He had touched neither. He was never hungry anymore. He rubbed his hands over his arms, warming them a little, and glanced along the shoreline to his left, away from the camp. When he had come trailing along there tree days before, he hadn't imagined it being like this. Even though he liked to believe that he had known it somewhere deep down, he had still imagined the feel of Kate in his arms, welcoming him back, glad to see him. Walking through the jungle it was what had kept him motivated when the cuts on his back had hurt too badly, or when he was thirsty or tired. The smile he had imagined on her face had kept him going; thinking that somewhere in all the darkness there was still something good. What hurt most was that he had been wrong.

He didn't notice John sitting down next to him until the other man cleared his throat. He held out another plate with food, fish this time, offering its contents to him. When he just turned away John sat it down next to the other food, but didn't make to leave.

"They are worried about you, Jack." John said; his calm voice soothing to Jack's ears despite all their past differences. "Rose, Claire and Sun." Jack was sure that they both noticed the fact that he didn't mention Kate, but he chose to ignore it. He had almost convinced himself that he didn't care if she avoided him.

"It's hard, isn't it Jack? Realizing that things aren't what you imagined, or wanted, them to be." John continued still calm, not in the least accusing. Jack bent his head further, his eyes still set on the shoreline far off to his left. He wondered how it was the Locke always seemed to know what was wrong. "It's hard, but you need to accept them the way they are now." Jack dug his feet deeper into the sand, a silent refusal to what Locke was saying. "Everything is a challenge, Jack, but if you overcome it, you will turn out much stronger than you were before." Jack wanted to yell at him, like he might have done in the past. He wanted to tell Locke how wrong he was, how he was too late. You can't win a fight you have already quit.

"Is this really what _she_ wants you to do?" Jack involuntarily followed John's gaze to Kate, hunched by the fire, staring into the dancing flames. Charlie was sitting some meters from her on her right, strumming his guitar. Claire snuggling a sleeping Aaron was sitting next to him. There were others by the fire too, Rose, Bernard, Sun and Jin and Hurley, amongst others, and although they were all engaged in talk and laughter Kate managed to look as if she was all alone.

"I killed the man she loves, John!" Jack spat; the first words he had said in three days. Locke looked at him for a minute, not answering. Jack turned his gaze away again, certain he had made his point. He could hear Locke brush the sand from his khakis and stand up.

"You see that's where I think you are mistaken, Jack." He said quietly, his hand finding Jack's shoulder. Jack's head snapped up, piercing John with a hostile glare. Locke merely smiled softly, turning to leave, but stopped. "On the other hand, if you keep this up," he gestured at the untouched food and water; "then you will."

Please review, I have more, but I just wanted to know if you liked the idea, before I posted more. Comments are love, you know!


	2. Back from the presumed dead

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or any of the characters.

Sorry for the wait, and sorry for it being so short. I have written (almost) all of it now, so I'll be posting the next part tomorrow. There will probably be 4 parts altogether, although the next two ones will be quite long. I hope you enjoy it! Please read and review!

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Kate watched Locke sit down next to Jack, further down on the beach. She watched, disappointed and angry, how he refused yet another meal. She knew that she had no right to feel that way; she hadn't even talked to him since he came back from the Hydra. She told herself that she was avoiding him because he had hurt her. He had, by saving her life, made her think that she had lost the two persons she cared the most about. She looked past the two men on the beach, in the direction of the graveyard. She shuddered as she remembered the many nights she had slept there, curled up between their crosses. Until three days ago, they had all thought both of them were dead. Now, when he was back, she felt so bad for believing him dead. She felt so bad for giving up all hope of ever seeing him again. With Sawyer it wasn't as bad. She had reconciled with his death, her only comfort being that he had at least died knowing she loved him.

Jack, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. The last time she had seen him had been when Juliet had taken her in to see him, to convince him to do the operation. It played over and over in her head like a broken record. The way he had been so disappointed in her for believing the Other's threats; how distant he had been. She had spent the last three months agonizing over what she should have done and said. How she should have confessed her feelings, how she should have said that she missed him, and wanted him, and needed him. There had been so many misunderstandings between them; the kiss being the main one. She had wished she could have explained it to him. Explained why she ran. Told him that she was sorry for that, but could never be for the kiss.

She had just started to finally accept that he was gone forever, and now that he was back she had no idea how to approach him. She saw that she hurt him by avoiding him, but she still wasn't sure that he was there. She had no idea how to deal with all her feelings, blowing inside her like a class 5 hurricane. She wanted to hold him and touch him, but she was still afraid that he would go away. That he wouldn't be real, and if anything were ever to happen to him again, this way it wouldn't hurt as much. So, a quiet little voice told her, why does it hurt so much to be apart from him then?

"Hey sweetie." She jumped at the sound of Claire's soft voice, kicking down her bottle of water. Claire smiled slightly, moving closer to her friend. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" Kate answered quickly, nodding her head. Only she was far from it. Having Jack so close by was like a dream, yet she was so scared of her emotions and everything that could possibly go wrong that she couldn't find it in herself to be happy about it.

"I went by the graveyard today." Claire said and Kate shook her head, as if to tell her to stop. Claire only put her arm around her, holding her close. "You need to take the cross down, sweetie. He's back now." Kate held her breath for a second, taking in Claire's words. _He's back now. He's back now. He's back now._ She felt a tear run down her cheek, and as the first one hit the sand, she found she couldn't stop the millions of other ones following it. Claire held her as she cried, unceremoniously forcing all her fears and her hurt out of her body. _He's back now._


	3. The cross

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or anything affiliated with it.

A.N: I know I said I wouldn't post this today, but chapter 2 looked so extremely little, and I personally hate posts like that so I just couldn't do that to you. So here you go. Parts 3 and four will also be up today.

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He sank to his knees in front of the two crosses. The sun had all but set, but the moon provided enough light for him to see in the dark. The crosses were identical to the other ones, made out of fairly straight pieces of wood, wound together with either strips of tarp or string. He could make out the names even in the darkness; the left one said James Sawyer Ford, the right one Jack Shephard. Identical daisy chains hang on them, Sawyer's freshly maid, his own one faded. He reached out to touch his cross, noticing a piece of black string hanging around it. He recognized it as the string he had kept the key to the gun case on. Sawyer's cross was bare apart from the daisy chain. There were however small flowers at the base of his cross, which there wasn't at his own. He wondered if Kate had put them there. Had she made the daisy chains too? Was his a pity one, because no one else really cared? He didn't want to know, so he tore it from the cross, ripping it apart before throwing it into the underbrush.

He wished someone would have told him that they had supposed him dead. He thought that he had had a right to know. Was that why no one talked to him except for Rose? Because he was supposed to be dead? Angrily he got to his feet, still staring at the two crosses. It made him feel sick, seeing his own cross. Supposed to be dead? He kicked at the ground, turfs flying about angrily. Was that why Kate wouldn't talk to him, or even come near him? Because she had been happy with him dead? The man who killed the man she loved? Angry and sickened he turned away to leave, stopping abruptly at the sight of Kate just a few meters away, watching him steadily in the light of a torch.

"A cross?" He asked, the words smacking her in the face. "You assumed I was dead?" He hadn't meant for it to sound as if that was what disgusted him, but he could see on her face, through the way she went into defense-mode, that that was how she perceived it.

"They told us you weren't coming back! What were we supposed to think, Jack?" He could see her tears in the warm light from the torch. She wiped at them furiously, and he thought bitterly that she didn't even want to admit that it had hurt her to find that he was dead. "They told us that you were gone, both of you, and that we shouldn't bother looking for you." She was crying wildly now, no longer bothering with wiping the tears away. "I… I…" The words caught in her throat, but he didn't want to hear them anyway.

"You gave up? You left me there for three months?" His words were still poison, but he didn't know why he blamed them. He knew that the Hydra was placed on another island, and without a boat it would have been hard to get there. He knew that there was no possible way they could have rescued him, but it hurt him a little that they hadn't tried.

"Jack!" She exclaimed, clearly offended by the accusation, the torch flaring about as her hand gestured wildly in the air. "I… they told us you were gone. They said there was nothing for us to do." She tried to wipe at her tears, her voice catching in her throat, cut off by sobs. "We tried Jack, but they said you were dead." He smirked at her, giving off a hollow laugh.

"Well obviously I'm not." She flinched, ducking her head along with the torch. "Are you disappointed I was the one to come back and not Sawyer? Is that why you've avoided me?" Her head snapped up at the question, her eyes filled with tears again. She shook her head.

"N-no… I… I…" She stumbled over the words before giving up on it completely, and he didn't quite know what to make of it.

"You don't have to pretend, Kate." He told her, just wishing for some honesty from her for once. "I know you loved him. I know what you did after they took you back to your cage." Her face went pale and blank. She shook her head, almost unconsciously, flipping the torch about in the air, her entire body shaking. Jack felt himself grow physically ill. Was this how she would react to anything he would mention that had to do with Sawyer? Had she really loved him that much? He turned to leave, his shoulders slumped, his head hanging.

"Did they… did they make you watch that?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper, but he stopped, facing away from her. He turned his head over his shoulder, glancing at her. She was still shaking a little, her face still blank in the light of the torch. "I never… I'm sorry Jack."

"You're sorry?" He blurted out, his mind stumbling to make some sort of sense out of it all. "Sorry I saw it? Sorry you screwed Sawyer? Sorry for what, Kate?" Her free hand wrapped itself around her chest defensively at the bitterness of his voice, her eyes glistening as they met his.

"I'm sorry I hurt you! I'm sorry _they_ hurt you." Her voice was calm, honest even, he thought with a smirk, but shook it off. "I never wanted to hurt you, Jack." He laughed out loud at that one, even though he knew deep down that it was the truth. He could see her shy away from him at the sound of his hollow and rough laughter that wouldn't stop.

"Yeah, that's funny Kate." He said, still laughing his joyless laugh. He turned away from her fully, all too aware of the sounds of her sobs, heartbreakingly silent. Instead of walking away, something he knew he wasn't capable of doing, he just stood there, listening to her cry. His heart ached, like it always did when she was sad. On a more shallow level he hoped that she knew how much he disliked what she had done. How much he had hurt because of her decisions. He heard her whisper his name, choked in between the sobs. He closed his eyes hard, fighting against the guilt in his chest. No matter how much it might have hurt to see her naked with Sawyer, he couldn't imagine how she must feel, having lost the man she loved. Slowly he turned around again, taking in her shaking body, her tear drenched cheeks.

"I'm sorry about Sawyer." He said, startling the both of them with the softness of his voice. She looked up at him, the expression on her face showing her hurt and discomfort. "I never meant… I mean, I didn't think they would actually, you know…" She shook her head, silencing him. He ignored her, knowing that he had to say what he felt. "Ben promised to get me off the island, Kate. If I did the operation. I didn't want to at first…" He wondered if he should tell her that he hadn't made up his mind until he had seen her and Sawyer on the monitor in the control room. "I didn't want to leave without you."

"But still you did it…" Her voice was soft too, devoid of any feelings. He nodded solemnly, glancing at the crosses. His and Sawyer's. How could he ever explain that he had done the operation only to get her out of there? How could he tell her that what she had done with Sawyer had hurt him so much that he had seriously considered leaving them all on the island; deserted his fellow survivors just like Michael had?

"Yeah, I… It was driving me crazy, Kate. I needed to get out of there." He tried not to see the disappointed look in her eyes; tried not to think of what it meant. He wondered if she knew that he had been aware he was throwing away his only chance to get home when he took Ben hostage to get her out of there. He wondered if she knew that killing Ben had been a mistake, a miscalculation. He didn't quite know how to tell her.

"What made you change you mind?" She asked quietly, her voice quivering. "Why did you blow your chance?" He wanted to say that it was because he loved her, because he couldn't watch her suffer like he knew she did.

"I…" He shrugged, not wanting to risk everything and get rejected. "Guilt kicked in I guess." She looked at him as if she expected him to say something more. Something else. She didn't cry when only faced with silence, she only gave a deep sigh and sat down between the two crosses. Carefully she picked the black string from his cross; holding it in her hand like it was precious glass. He wondered if she actually thought it might break, or if she was just numb from tiredness. He looked at her, mesmerized by her movements, as she reached out to touch his cross, her hand stroking the smooth wood. Her fingers traced his name, bending softly into a capital J, followed slowly by an A and a C and a sharp, edgy K. She stopped there, her finger still on the cross; still resting against that K. It seemed obvious, even to him that it wasn't the first time she had done that. Traced his name.

"I used to come here everyday." She said quietly, and he had to strain to hear her in the slight rustle from the wind. "The day after I made it back, Sayid, Locke and me went out looking for you. Friendly and Pickett found us by night fall. They told us that you had let Ben die, and that the both of you had been punished for that." She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder; he could see that she was crying again. "Friendly said that you weren't going to come back. Pickett just grinned, and he said that Sawyer had got what he had asked for. Pickett had tried to kill him ever since his wife had died, so I knew what he meant. Friendly said that I should be grateful that the two of you had given your lives to set me free and that I should accept that you weren't coming back." She stopped to dry her tears; Jack felt his heart beat fast in his chest, angrier than ever with his captors. She gave him a weak smile. "I think Sayid carried me back to camp."

Jack thought about when they had brought him out to see Sawyer's body. The other man's shirt had been bloody; splatters of deep red where there weren't supposed to be any. On instinct he had kneeled next to his fellow survivor, checked for a pulse, for breath, for signs of life. None. He remembered the extreme anger. The fear for his own, but mostly for Kate's, life. He had asked about her as they had dragged him back inside. He had asked if she was alright, but no one had bothered to answer him. Until three days ago he had lived on the hope that, in the best of worlds, she was back at the beach unharmed.

"Claire and Charlie helped me make the crosses." Kate said, bringing him back to reality. She turned to him fully, only meters from his legs. He fidgeted for a while, feeling incredibly awkward standing there in front of her; before sitting down, their knees decimeters apart. She held out her hand, the piece of black string hanging from her fingers. "It was the only thing you had that could be hung on a cross." She said, motioning for him to take it. He shook his head.

"I don't want it." He said; his voice edgy and cold, even to himself. "It's just a piece of string, it doesn't mean anything." She withdrew her hand, the string twisted between her fingers and she smiled sadly.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." She said, the sad smile still on her lips, still taking time to fold the string up and put it carefully in the pocket of her jeans. She stood up quickly after that, brushing the sand from her jeans. "I should just take the cross down then, shouldn't I? I mean, that's why I came here in the first place." She rambled, her hands lodged firmly in the pockets of her pants. "I'm sorry you had to see it…" She sat down between the crosses again, seemingly reluctant to pull the cross out of the ground. Jack stood up as well, watching her as she seemed to struggle with her emotions. He made to move, taking a few steps in the direction of the camp.

"I'm sorry it's not his cross you're taking down." He said quietly, hoping to make her see that he truly felt bad for what he had done. Her head flung around, and she was on her feet in a matter of seconds. Tears were on her face, even though he could see that she was furious.

"Don't say that!" She hissed, her tears barely controlled, and he felt confused. Truly confused. "Don't you dare say that!" She was shaking, but he didn't know if it was with tears of from anger. Suddenly he didn't understand. Didn't understand her or her behavior. Her arms hugged tight around herself, and he hurt at the sight of her.

"You loved him, and I caused his death; how the hell can you say you don't wish he was back instead of me?" He was as furious as she now, dead bent on having her understand why she needed to hate him. She stared at him, and he met her gaze, both of them seething. He was the first one to back down, shaking his head. "Don't bother with the cross, Kate." He hung his head, as he started to walk back to camp. Her hand on his elbow stopped him after only a couple of meters.

"Jack?" Even though her voice was merely a whisper, the panic held in it was enough for him to turn around. Her eyes were big and frightened, showing the same barely contained panic as her voice. She was pale, and looked awfully tired, but none the less his heart skipped a beat at her beauty. He gave a deep sigh and turned away again, breaking free from her hold on his arm. He started walking back to camp, surprised to find that she didn't go after him. When he took a quick glance backwards all he could see was her silhouette in the light from the moon and the torch. Still he could see that she was crying.


	4. Someplace better

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. Least of all Lost.

A.N: Final part. Please review! ENJOY!

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Jack had never seen Claire so angry. Her blue eyes burned on him, and he had to look away, even though he didn't quite know what he had done. She sat down next to him where he sat on his regular spot on the beach, shoving a water bottle into his hand and a big slice of mango into his other.

"I'm not leaving until you eat." She said, her teeth clenched, her face determined. He took a bite of the mango, mostly to make sure he didn't anger her further. She seemed a little more pleased, even though her brow was still creased, and her eyes still furious.

"I spent last night comforting Kate." She said, as if he was meant to feel guilty. He shrugged, sipping the water, trying to pretend he didn't hurt at the thought. "I'm not sure what happened back at the Others's camp, Jack, but…" Jack felt his temper flare, in anticipation of the lecture he knew was coming.

"She slept with Sawyer." He said, and he could see the rage in Claire's eyes die down a little. "She loved him and I got him killed." He threw the mango into the water, saw her eyes follow it when it flew through the air. "I… I care for her so much, and I killed the man she loved." He felt Claire's thin arm sneak around him, trying her best to comfort him.

"Will you listen to me if I tell you what's happened since she came back?" She asked quietly, and he broke their contact. He looked out over the ocean, not sure he wanted to know how Kate had been. Claire, however, didn't wait for him to answer. "She and Sayid and Locke went out to get you back. They came back the same night, Sayid was carrying her. She was worn out, dehydrated and she had barely eaten since you left camp with Hurley and Michael. She made me and Charlie help her make your crosses the next day." Claire smiled a sad smile. "We could barely get a word out of her. Other from telling us which pieces of wood to use for Sawyer's cross, she didn't say anything." He wanted to ask why they had made Sawyer's cross and not his, but he supposed that maybe Claire had just mixed them up. "Jack, it doesn't matter what she did with Sawyer back on that island. It was your cross she slept by that first night; it was your name she screamed in her nightmares; it was your death she couldn't get over."

"You're lying!" He said, scurrying to his feet. He started walking away from her; angrily stalking his way back to his tent. She caught up with him easily, grabbing his arm to make him stop. He did so reluctantly, barely aware of that the entire camp was watching them. "Just leave me alone!"

"She loves you." Claire tried, her voice only for him to hear. He swallowed to get rid of the lump in his throat, shaking his head in denial, because it was so much easier this way. It was so much easier to just give into the despair and the numbness inside; so much easier to die than to face the fact that she might actually have some feelings for him.

"Shut up!" He yelled, scaring her, "Shut up and leave me the hell alone!" She backed down, head hanging in defeat. She moved to say something but the look in his eyes told her not to. He turned away from her, stalking into the jungle. The underbrush tore at the legs of his jeans, and the sharp leaves cut his arms and cheeks. He was surprised to find Kate standing only a few meters into the jungle. Her arms hang loosely by her sides, her hair in a messy pony tail. They stared at each other for a long while, not moving, not talking.

"You love Sawyer?" He said, but it wasn't a statement, it was a question. She didn't react, he reached out to touch her, to shake some sense into her, but she moved further away, appearing 15 feet further into the jungle. "Kate?" he stumbled after her, and she kept disappearing as he moved to touch her. He took off after her in a wild chase, deeper and deeper, trying to catch up. Trying to find the answer to his question. He never saw the vine before his foot caught on it and he fell, seeing Kate stop a few meters in front of him. She looked at him, and he reached his hand out to her for help. Then it all went black.

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When he woke up it was so dark he had to blink a few times just to make sure his eyes were actually open. A hand was running through his hair, four perfect fingers grazing against his scalp softly. He closed his eyes again, anxiety rising in his chest, hoping she didn't notice that he was awake.

"What happened back there?" She asked, her voice a mere whisper almost disappearing in the light wind, and the pops from the fire. "What did they do to you that made you this way?" He wasn't entirely sure that she actually expected an answer, he wasn't even sure that she knew he was awake now. Her hand continued to thread through his hair slowly. He forced himself not to shiver at the contact. Her thumb brushed easily over his forehead and he winced and drew back visibly as she touched something sore. He sat up, his hand going to his forehead. It was a cut, edgy as if made by a stone, it wasn't very deep, and he supposed that it wouldn't need stitches.

"You're up." She commented flatly, indicating that she had indeed known. "You feel okay?" He nodded, swallowing hard. She held out a bottle of water and he accepted it, taking a good sip. "You know, this wouldn't have happened if you had taken care of yourself." She said, the worry clear in her voice. He thought bitterly that she was wrong; it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't hurt her by killing Sawyer.

"You know, you don't have to be here. I'll be just fine." He said gruffly, drinking some more water. He gestured for the opening of his tent, but she just shook her head in exasperation and stayed where she was.

"What _did_ they do to you?" She asked, clearly concerned. He met her gaze; she was so close their legs were touching and he could feel the faint smell of shampoo that he had long since learned was hers. She reached out to take his hand, he looked at their hands entwined, wanting to let go, but not being able to. Her hand squeezed his, and he looked up to meet her gaze. There were tears in her eyes again, and he felt confused. "Did they hurt you?" He thought of the scars on his back, white and sore; he thought of the marks from needles on his arms, memories of having been injected far too many times. He knew there were marks on his chest too, shallow cuts from Pickett's knife; other marks, on his chest and abdomen, from their tazers. He bent his head, unable to lie to her. She ripped up his shirt, her fingers running over his chest angrily, feeling all the scars. He pulled her hand away.

"It's nothing, Kate." Her gaze was white-hot when it centered on his face again, and he buttoned the shirt back up.

"How can you say that's nothing Jack?" She reached out for him again, but he pretended not to notice and moved a little further from her, his leg cold where they no longer touched. "They tortured you, didn't they?" Her voice was dark and quiet, her eyes burned with a hatred he had never seen in them before. He tore his gaze from hers and she took that as a yes, cursing their captors loudly.

"I'm alright now, Kate." He said, and she stopped swearing mid-word. She looked at him oddly, shaking her head softly. She clearly didn't agree, but he didn't know if it even bothered him that she was right.

"Then why won't you eat? Why do you just sit there watching the stupid ocean?" Her arms crossed and un-crossed over her chest, studying him. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"I killed the man you loved…" He started, the only explanation he could give her without telling her his feelings, and making a complete fool of himself. She shook her head again, interrupting him.

"I didn't love Sawyer. I never loved Sawyer." She said slowly, and he met her gaze. "Look, I can't explain why I did what I did, and I mean, I can't deny that there was always…" She paused, searching for the right word. "…attraction between us, but we were never more than friends."

"But you had sex with him." He found that despite the confusion he felt inside, his words were hard and bitter, accusing against her honesty. She sighed deeply, shrugging exasperatedly.

"Yes, Jack. We had sex." The words were harsh coming from her mouth, and he realized that it was the first time she had actually said it to his face. "I don't know what you want me to say. I cared for Sawyer a lot, and I was torn between him and you. You both kept drawing me in and then pushing me away, and I didn't know what to think. Since I kissed you, you've been so withdrawn, you wouldn't let me in, and I was lonely Jack. I know it's my own doing, but I didn't know how to make it undone. I could see that you both cared for me, and I cared for both of you an awful lot…" She trailed off, and he met her gaze, wondering if 'cared' still was in past tense when it came to him. Her hand reached out for his; hesitating in the air between before coming back to rest in her lap. "Sawyer practically told me he loved me…" She said quietly. "I thought that I might love him too… and then after seeing you there were so many feelings. Having sex was… I mean, it seemed like a good way to find out what I really felt. He wanted to, and I… I really needed to know." She lowered her gaze, and he looked away from her. His eyes trailed back to her hands in her lap, they were twisting nervously, rubbing against each other. He looked up at her when she started speaking again, her face wet with tears, her voice thick with emotion.

"I used him." She wiped at her tears. "And I felt so bad afterwards… there were no feelings. I just… I just felt like I had betrayed you." Jack felt his head go light, there were so many implications in that sentence that he didn't know what to make of it. She broke into a hysteric fit of crying and he scooted over, hesitating a little before putting his arm around her in a friendly gesture. She stiffened a little, before burying her head in his chest, awfully more intimate than Jack had intended.

"At least…" She choked out. "…at least he died thinking I loved him. Maybe…" She took a deep breath to try to stop the sobs. "…maybe he got to be happy." Jack pulled her closer, rocking her slightly in her arms, like one does a little child. He swallowed hard, leaning his head down to kiss her hair lightly.

"Hey, it's okay." He said softly, hand tangled up in her hair, smoothing out the curls lovingly. "I'm sure he's somewhere better." He felt her nod against his chest, her messy hair tickling his throat. "I'm sure he knows how much you miss and care for him." She nodded again, just once. They sat there for a long while, the fire behind them fading slowly. It felt good to have her in his arms, it felt good to know that she didn't blame him, and most of all didn't love Sawyer. He didn't know where it left them; him and her, but he knew, at least, that he could make things a little better.

"I didn't mean for him to die." He said slowly, needing her to know, still. "I never even meant to kill Ben, it… it was a miscalculation." She nodded against his chest before meeting his gaze. "I thought they would let the both of you go." He admitted. "I couldn't bear the thought that they might hurt you to get to me, and I wanted you back here, where you would be safe."

"I know." She said simply, holding onto his gaze. "It wasn't your fault Jack." She smiled at him a little, and he returned it, pulling her closer again. She nuzzled her head underneath his head, her breath warm on his chest. He closed his eyes. To hear her say that it wasn't his fault, that she didn't blame him, lifted something heavy off his chest.

"Jack?" She said after what seemed like hours. She didn't move from his chest, but her arm came up to rest on his shoulder, clinging closer to him. She sounded sleepy as she continued, "As much as I wanted both of you to come back unscathed; if I could only have one of you back, I'm glad that it's you." His hold on her tightened, and he pressed another kiss into her hair. He felt tears form in his eyes, but instead of fighting against them, he just let them come, holding Kate tight. "I love you." She whispered silently, loud enough for him to hear. She turned in his arms, and their eyes met. Smiling at her through his tears, Jack pulled her closer, onto his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he could feel her relax; free from all the guilt and all her emotions after such a long time. He planted a kiss below her exposed ear, and he felt her shiver.

"I love you too Kate."

He woke up the next morning, finding Kate still pressed against his chest and he knew, without any doubt, that things would be better now. So incredibly much better.

Fin

There you go! Did you like it? Hate it? Please tell me!!


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